Summer Solstice

Today is the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. Here in Wasilla, the sun will set tonight at 11:42 p.m. It will rise again in the morning at 4:19 a.m. But even during those hours it will be more or less light outside, like a long dusk.

Our time in Alaska has gone well so far. But we have only been here just under three weeks, so that we often catch ourselves saying, "I can't believe we actually live here!" I sometimes think that one morning I'll wake up back in Norman after having this dream in which we moved to Alaska. Because it is so far away and so different from other places we've lived, it feels like we've moved to another country at times. Apparently we are not the first to feel this way. A sign posted at the hotel in Tok said, "Alaska - The Last Foreign Country Still Friendly to Americans."

But we are thoroughly enjoying it here so far. I love the sight of the mountains, the occasional moose sightings, and hearing people talk about how "hot" it is at 75 degrees (to be sure, 75 degrees in the sun here feels much warmer than the same temperature in other places we've lived). I also enjoy the coffee kiosks on nearly every corner. I've become hooked on Americanos (an Americano is just a shot of espresso mixed with piping hot water. I like them because they are hot, strong, and cheap).

I'm enjoying preaching at Grace. I was just speaking to another minister about how preaching to a larger congregation is easier than to a small one (the church here usually has about 90 to 100 people present on Sunday mornings). One might think the opposite is the case; the fewer people, the less stress on the speaker. But actually for some reason, the more people there are, the more enjoyable the experience.

As I am just beginning my ministry here, I am reminded of something one of my former mentor-pastors said to me. He said that in the ministry, you must take a long-term view of things. Real change and real fruit will take years to come. The Spirit will work through the means of grace, but his timetable is often much longer than ours. This is good to remember when the press of each week's duties intensifies; I may be anxious about this Sunday's sermon or tomorrow's appointment, but God's time-horizon stretches far beyond the immediate. So I pray that the little I do each day will culminate into a ministry that bears fruit over the long-haul, and ultimately for eternity.